Part Two: It's all fun and games until a random guy tries to convince you to get B12 shots

This is the second part of the story of our trip to Great Wolf Lodge. Part One is here.

Okay, so Llama was bathed and ensconced in bed with Bucket, all nice and snuggly warm, so my brothers and I went to the Meijer store next door to find laundry detergent. I'd never been in a Meijer. It's like a super Wal-Mart, with food, car parts, clothes and all, but with the added benefit of having beer, wine, and liquor because it's not in Pennsylvania.

So we found the laundry detergent and I thought we were in business, but then Wolfman decided that he wanted to check out the alcohol selection. It was not great. It was the kind of liquor that poor, underage college students without any good friends drink. I'm talking about a gallon of vodka for $5. Even Vladimir costs $13 for a gallon - I should know, I drank enough of it. The Army Guy and I were just poking fun at the knock-off names, like John Danvers and Admiral Nelson (but there was no Jack Daniels or Captain Morgan), while Wolfman inspected the offerings.

Wolfman made the mistake of saying that he wanted Red Bull. A nearby man took that as an invitation to start telling us about his brother, the ER doctor, who regularly takes shots of B12 in order to stay awake. He talked at length about vitamins and how mega-doses of vitamins will provide energy and stamina. He also told us he had been awake for "days." Wolfman just kept nodding and providing more and more personal information, like "We're not from here," and "We're staying right over there."

At one point, I looked at The Army Guy and said, "Is this really happening?" and he nodded, so I guess it was.

Finally, I said, "We have to go, thanks for your time!" and started walking away. The Army Guy followed, and eventually Wolfman did, too. I guess I wasn't clear enough when we were little - you do not talk to strangers! You certainly don't tell them you're traveling! And so we laughed about it because nothing bad happened to us.

Part Three: It's all fun and games until your daughter sticks her hand in a strawberry margarita will follow soon.

It's all fun and games until someone throws up in the bed.

A few weeks ago, we set out for Great Wolf Lodge, with the intention of meeting The Army Guy, Frenchy, Z-man, and Wolfman for a great weekend of swimming and waterslides and family bonding. Bucket was less than thrilled, because he's usually busy on weekends and he does not take time out to go on waterslides. We left right after he got home from work on a Friday afternoon.

We drove for about an hour and a half, and Llama was super-starving. The kind of starving that causes her to shriek at me and throw her snack trap, because a snack trap is just not going to cut it. There is a dearth of resources on the Ohio turnpike, so we ended up at a rest stop McDonald's. (Note: I am not opposed to Happy Meals.) The line was incredibly long, they had about 3 people working, and nobody was happy. There was a man who said he'd been waiting for a chicken sandwich for 40 minutes. Nevertheless, we got some food and hit the road. (Another note: I used to be opposed to eating in the car, but when needs must...)

Llama ate nuggets and fries and fell asleep. The next hour or so was pretty nice. I started to doze off and... Llama woke up, angrily. So we stopped for diaper changes and running, but it was pretty dark and I don't like to let her run in parking lots in the dark. So I wrestled her little angry self back into the car seat with promises of swimming, which were met with smiles and, "Swim? When swim? Swim swim?"

The next hour or so passed uneventfully. Llama was sleeping again, and I called to let my brothers know that we were arriving shortly so they could meet us and help us carry everything in. It was fabulous. Llama woke up and was very, very, very excited, so we let her jump in the bed and run around even though it was 10 o'clock at night.

And then she threw up in the bed. All over herself, the bed, the pillows, and her blankies. Then she tried to run away from it because she's never thrown up like that before, and she continued to throw up. I finally caught her just in time for her to get it all over me, and got her into the bathroom where she got it all over the bathtub. Bucket, that very smart man, was already on the phone with the front desk getting new bedding and asking about laundry facilities.

There are more parts to this story, but I'm pretty sure Llama is calling Tokyo, so I should probably be done with it for now. Part Two: It's all fun and games until a random guy tries to convince you to get B12 shots, will follow shortly.

Monsters are happier than octopi

Last year, Llama was an octopus for Halloween. She was very unhappy about it. There is photographic evidence, but I'm too lazy to go look for it. I'm sure you've seen it before. She was alternately angry and tearful, and her mobility was restricted. It was an issue for her.

This year, nothing could have stopped her. She danced on the tailboard of a firetruck before marching through town with all of the other monsters, grim reapers, and iPods. (Some costumes were more imaginative than others. There was also a pregnant Ben Roethlisberger. Someone should congratulate him. Her? Whichever.)


I had to be that mom and take her picture in front of the fireplace.

She acquired two treat bags, ate Nerds and Cheez Doodles, and was generally enthralled by all of the flashing lights. When the streets are closed by police cars, firetrucks, and volunteer firemen's personal vehicles, there are a lot of flashing lights. Llama likes them. She also likes candy. It was a good night.

A Lesson in Animal Sounds

Llama and I went to a baby shower today. Of course, she tried to steal some presents. One of them was a barn shape sorter with animals, so my friend was doing animal sounds with her.

E: What does a cow say?
Llama: Moo.
E: What does a duck say?
Llama: Mwack. (Llama speak for quack.)
E: What does a pig say?
Llama: Shit.
E: I don't know that kind of pig.
Me: Laughing hysterically.

I have no idea how she made that connection. Of course, I do know where she heard the word "shit," and it was from me. It's time to clean up the ol' vocabulary.

I just can't seem to get it together.

Once I get it together, I can't keep it together. If you've known me for a long time, then you know that I used to have a memory like a steel trap. I didn't forget things. I was able to keep a complicated schedule, including assignments for six different undergraduate classes, a work study job, and an internship, straight in my head. No forgetting. Only random use of my planner.

And now I seem to have lost all ability to do that. I have a planner. I live and die by it. If it's not in there, then it doesn't exist in my world. So since I never wrote, "Lock the car," and, "Hold on to your driver's license and debit card," in the planner... I didn't. I did not lock the car and I left it unattended on a medium-size public college campus for eight hours. Luckily, all that was missing was my grey jacket and the mail. Strangely, the Sirius receiver was left. Maybe they don't care about satellite radio. But I really liked that jacket, and it was so old that I can't get a new one to replace it because nothing new is as good as something old. Plus the mail... well, taking my mail sucks, because I had written checks for bills and such, and it's clearly an issue to have such important things missing.

And the driver's license and debit card. I put them in my pocket and I walked to the drugstore for some cold medicine. Somewhere after my purchase, I lost both of them. Of course, I didn't realize this until I was at the grocery store getting milk for Llama. (A day that ends without milk does not end, in case you didn't know.)

And so, I have money in the bank but no way to get it. And I'm a little scared of the whole identity theft issue. AND if I see someone wearing my great grey jacket, I'm going to jack them up. You just watch.

But really, all of this could have been avoided if I still had a memory like a steel trap. How do I go about getting THAT back?

A Photo Montage from Summer 2009

Set to music. Not actual music, because 1) I don't know how to do that and 2) it irritates me when I open a page and the music scares me and I have to scramble for the volume button. I'll just illustrate some lyrics.

The song is "Daughter," by Loudon Wainwright III, and I first heard it at the end of Knocked Up, while I was pregnant, and I sobbed.

Everything she sees, she says she wants.
Everything she wants, I see she gets.

That's my daughter in the water, everything she owns I bought her.
Everything she owns.
That's my daughter in the water, everything she knows I taught her.
Everything she knows.

Everything I say she takes to heart.


Everything she takes, she takes apart.

That's my daughter in the water, every time she fell I caught her.
Every time she fell.

That's my daughter in the water, I lost every time I fought her.
I lost every time.

Every time she blinks, she strikes somebody blind.

Everything she thinks blows her tiny mind.

That's my daughter in the water, who'd have ever thought her?
Who'd have ever thought?
That's my daughter in the water, I lost everytime I fought her.
Yea, I lost every time.

And now that I'm crying, I'll end this for tonight. The promised photos have finally arrived.

Tomorrow I will post a kajillion pictures.

Today, I want to ask you for a favor. Go here and vote for which hospital you'd most like to see win a gameroom from Microsoft. You could win an Xbox 360, but I don't care about that. I care about sick kids having something to do with their time since they can't, you know, go home and play with their siblings and friends. If you don't have a favorite hospital, you can vote for Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. Thankfully, we've only needed them once and it was a very minor issue, but I am happy they were there.

Thanks. And pictures really are coming, either tomorrow morning, or possibly later tonight. But please go vote.